That Others May Live
by AikoNamika
Summary: During the Vietnam War, sacrifices were made by a great many soldiers, both on the ground and in the air. But nothing came close to those made by the medics. Sequel to In a Dead Man's Eyes


**Title: That Others May Live**  
Author: Aiko Namika  
Fandom: Gundam Wing  
Characters: Duo, Trowa (unconscious), and Heero  
Warnings: AU, blood, death, language, Vietnam  
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing isn't mine. The Vietnam War isn't mine either, but I don't want it. There's a line in there from MASH, which I also don't own.  
For: merith and her Vietnam War request. A semi-sequel to my previous response to that request ("In a Dead Man's Eyes"), and though it's probably not necessary to have read it first, I think it helps.  
Note: This was written between midnight and 2 a.m. because the plot bunny would not let go of my ass – I'm pretty sure it's taken a big chunk anyway. If this is completely incoherent, I'll try to fix it once I can think straight. …enjoy?

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"DAMMIT BARTON, **LIVE**!" Duo didn't have time to dash the tears from his eyes as he frantically tried to keep the chopper pilot from dying. He paused for a moment to glance at the guy who was listening for a heart beat, then returned to chest compressions at the negative signal. Underneath his bloody hands the skin was still warm, though it was gradually assuming a grayish pallor. Abandoning the compressions once more, he moved up to the pilot's head to seal his mouth over lax lips as he forced air into still lungs. One breath, then a second, and then his hands once more found their rhythm.

"Come on, Barton…don't let the bastard wing. Don't let him…" he whispered harshly as he heaved downwards once more.

"I've got a heartbeat!" The triumphant cry, along with the copilot's announcement that the base was in sight, gave the medical team enough energy to keep going. Across from Duo the other medics were similarly patching up the surviving airman they'd rescued, while in the back lay a hastily covered bundle that no one wanted to think about. All they could do was to save those they could and hope that they would make it back in time.

The thump of the chopper landing heralded the inrush of fresh doctors, who took over the patients while being filled in on what had happened. Duo himself jogged beside Trowa's stretcher to keep an eye on his pilot, finally stopping as the others entered the medical tent. For a long moment he just stood there, staring after them as his friend's blood dripped silently from his hands onto the parched ground.

"What happened" The low voice snapped him out of his shock, and he turned around to meet Heero's solemn blue gaze. The F-4 pilot was still out of commission with his shoulder in a cast, and so he was still at the medical base. They had spent time catching up on each other's lives after Duo had saved Heero, and their friendship was now as strong as it had ever been; probably stronger, which the bonds of war further tying them together. Thus Heero could see that something was seriously wrong, and he hobbled forward to lay a hand on Duo's shoulder, cocking his head in inquiry.

"We…we were high bird for the first pickup," he started, feeling his way hesitantly into the story. "By the time we were low bird, the place was getting pretty hot. But there were two guys still down there, we had to get them out," he said, trying to justify their choice to stay. "We got the first guy out without too much trouble, but the VC were starting to aim straight despite the cover fire. Our escort told us to get out, but…dammit, there was still another guy on the ground!" Duo looked up sharply then, and Heero could see a suspicious sparkle in his eyes. "We had to get him out; what good would we be if we didn't? So…so Barton held the hover, and we sent down the rope again."

"Barton?" Heero asked.

"Our pilot. The guy who just got taken in there," Duo replied, gesturing bleakly at the tent."

"Ah," Heero murmured, subsiding back into silence so that the other man – they were boys, really, but grown up so fast... – could finish his recount.

"We were lifting him up when a round came through the front window and hit Trowa. Barton. Just threw him back into the seat, but he held the hover until the copilot grabbed the controls. God, if it had been any other man…" Duo trailed off to scrub at his eyes with his wrist, ignoring the streak of drying blood the movement left.

"The copilot kept control and I dragged Trowa into the back to try and save him…one of the rounds was so damn close to his heart that it's a fucking wonder he didn't die right there. And do you know what the irony is, Heero?" Duo looked up once more, and the tears had finally escaped, trickling slowly down his cheeks and washing away bloody, sweat, and grime.

"Do you know what the fucking, bitter irony is?" he asked again, his voice cracking toward the end. "He was already dead. The guy that Trowa nearly died for. He'd been killed by the VC on his way up, riddled with bullets while being rescued. There wasn't anything we could do to save him, Heero. We…couldn't do…anything…"

With that, Duo collapsed onto the ground sobbing, and Heero slowly lowered himself until he was sitting as well. He gathered his friend to him and held him tightly with his good arm, resting his cheek on the chestnut hair as his shirt was slowly soaked with tears.

It hurt. It hurt so much, because Duo had joined the search-and-rescue crews to be able to save lives. And though he'd been told that eventually he'd become at least partially desensitized to the deaths, when it was someone that close to him that was dying it hurt a lot. When that someone had been wounded and hadn't even been able to accomplish what he'd wanted to do, it hurt more. The search-and-rescue crews were a breed apart, willingly heading into firefights that even the best of soldiers would try to avoid, only to pull off impossible stunts just to rescue a single man. He was typical of any of them, giving fearlessly of himself until there was nothing left, and then continuing to give. There wasn't a single one of them who would abandon a downed soldier – their entire purpose was to rescue those who couldn't rescue themselves, and they'd put themselves in the worst of dangers just so that others could get out alive

"Maxwell!" The shout from across the landing field caught their attention, and both looked up. There was a man there, waving from near where another Jolly Green was being loaded up for a mission. "We're a man short, and we're heading into heavy fire!" The man was jogging towards them as he explained the situation. "I know you just got back from a mission, but do you think you could go out again?"

Duo froze for the barest fraction of a moment, glancing toward the doors of the hospital tent. Then he was on his feet and moving toward the other man, only taking a moment glance back at Heero and give him a reassuring – of slightly shaky – smile before he started jogging back toward his duty. "Thanks, Heero. I'll catch up with you when I get back." Tossing a jaunty salute toward his friend, the medic caught the helmet that was slung toward him, and then turned his back and took off.

Though the losses always hurt, and the pain sometimes felt unbearable, there was always the duty that he had to his fellow soldiers. His duty to people like Heero, who he'd grown up with; and his duty to the nameless soldier that had died on the lift wire, who he would never know. And he had to fulfill his duty, because if he didn't, then no one else could – he'd sacrifice himself if that was what it took, just like Trowa had. So that others may live.

-owari-

Note: "That others may live" was the motto of the search-and-rescue guys. They were unarmed and had to be escorted by armed fighters, but they would go back into the fray again and again, as many times as it took to rescue a downed pilot. And they would do it no matter what it cost them.

Comments and reviews are always appreciated!


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